tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60962180237261001692024-03-05T13:51:06.112-05:00A Country Mixstories of the Mix family loving the country lifeA Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-3667597202808146442012-06-05T12:56:00.004-04:002012-06-05T12:58:42.907-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Elizabeth loves to fully participate in whatever she is doing. Here she is on Sunday, right after church.<br />
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Here she is two days later, coming in from playing outside.<br />
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I love this girl. She is so full of life!<br />
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</div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-58124227971991910982012-06-04T13:12:00.001-04:002012-06-04T13:12:28.359-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Take a short walk over to my friend Tinyla's blog <a href="http://tinylasnews.blogspot.com/2012/05/bows-r-us.html">here</a><br />
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<img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i1139.photobucket.com/albums/n548/itstinyla/th_mother_and_baby_playing1.jpg" /></div>
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<a href="http://tinylasnews.blogspot.com/2012/05/bows-r-us.html">http://tinylasnews.blogspot.com/2012/05/bows-r-us.html</a> </div>
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to see the beautiful hair bows she is giving away!!! This one is my favorite! Which one do you like the most?<br />
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<br /></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-52264510472718360942012-06-04T12:58:00.001-04:002012-06-05T12:58:26.139-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Happy anniversary today to my parents, Jim and Laura Pranger. They were married thirty years ago today! <br />
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I appreciate so much the heritage they have given me. I could tell about their love for God. I could tell about their faithfulness to the Lord's work. I could tell about their service to others. However, what most impresses me today is their consistency.<br />
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Before we were missionaries, our parents loved God and served Him. Doing right was always right. Our parents didn't just go to church. Our lives were filled with loving God and doing right. When we went to the mission field in 1994, our home life didn't change. We still read our Bibles, prayed, and witnessed to people. Our parents taught us that Christianity is not just what we do on Sunday. Christianity is the way we live. We live to honor God.<br />
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This picture was on our first prayer card in 1992.</div>
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Here we are in Palatka, Russia, in "spring" of 1998.</div>
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Today, my parents are still missionaries. They live in Hungary and reach Hungarians as well as other Europeans who travel through Budapest. All five of us children are married and serving the Lord in the various places God has put us. <br />
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Here we all are at Lydia's wedding a month ago. Sharon's husband Andrew couldn't make the trip, so he is missing in the photograph. In order from left to right: Jonathan, Bobby, me, our daughter Elizabeth, James, his wife Amber (who is expecting their son Jacob), Mom, Lydia, Josh, our daughter Abigail, Dad, Sharon, Liberty (also expecting), Deborah, Breanna, Amos, and Annabeth.<br />
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Thank you, Dad and Mom, for the godly example you have been to us. Thank you for bringing us up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. We pray that we will pass on this same heritage to our children.</div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-44535509272883652852012-05-17T10:13:00.000-04:002012-05-17T10:13:02.221-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hello, dear reader! It's truly been a long time since we've talked, and I've missed you SO much! My computer has been broken for a while, so I haven't been able to write anything or read any of your blogs. My husband bought me a new computer for Mother's Day (yay!), so I hope to spend a lot more time with you in the future. <br />
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I feel a breeze coming from somewhere. Let's go check on the girls. <br />
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OK, so the back door is wide open. Let's step outside. <br />
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There they are. Let's go see what they are doing. <br />
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Here's Jon, trying to follow me.<br />
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Pray for him today. I found a marble-sized lump under his jaw by his neck. He has an appointment this afternoon to get it checked. <br />
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It's time for me to get busy. I'm going to finish my coffee and go work on my garden!<br />
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(Shh, I'm using my husband's cup.) {smiley-face}<br />
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It was wonderful to tak to you again! I hope your day is going well!<br />
</div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-5787219765191838502012-03-29T16:58:00.000-04:002012-06-05T12:58:26.142-04:00All About Lizzie<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIt84RS87kvIfMFVIlmwO-GvkA7rKjuEQMylfp4ZkJrRmTpJxlyRuJOVP8wF13wDcCTaFtYYK0wEk0ZwR4fHWI1l1KwBQsprUkcEgUFzg_GMfi-qPSn1Ra4WbO4kzEL6jQJlkuCFKgQQ/s1600/march+27,+2012+002a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIt84RS87kvIfMFVIlmwO-GvkA7rKjuEQMylfp4ZkJrRmTpJxlyRuJOVP8wF13wDcCTaFtYYK0wEk0ZwR4fHWI1l1KwBQsprUkcEgUFzg_GMfi-qPSn1Ra4WbO4kzEL6jQJlkuCFKgQQ/s400/march+27,+2012+002a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Our little Elizabeth turned three this week. Here are some highlights of her life right now:<br />
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She loves to sing, loves to climb, and loves to play with dolls. <br />
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She loves to be silly!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi706gXREvMW5ghMMKOKUFkne9IbqgVEhcsLHxDL2maj8PyFZJonbnva-VDKdrg6kQqJWCTR0-DJ5H-94tWrhYvHr3dL0yxAi2s8b34TaT64i6j48DwJy0wDmpqf-VBUDyYK1RjBxCEeQ/s1600/march+27,+2012+001a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi706gXREvMW5ghMMKOKUFkne9IbqgVEhcsLHxDL2maj8PyFZJonbnva-VDKdrg6kQqJWCTR0-DJ5H-94tWrhYvHr3dL0yxAi2s8b34TaT64i6j48DwJy0wDmpqf-VBUDyYK1RjBxCEeQ/s400/march+27,+2012+001a.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />
She loves the color pink.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2c7S6fXyW_f5sUd7YN4Zr5CI81ZqxPXwAXL2PvpU6cVWJpm7qq-cHWtbpHmJCZ55qPNEvOeTrfl8pWnJ-B4ZJTDMZDCVgjJ-yw1ihS02omY7QAF-kmZ4pLJ2ih7VJXgwfv1mP-yB5Aw/s1600/march+27%252C+2012+003a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2c7S6fXyW_f5sUd7YN4Zr5CI81ZqxPXwAXL2PvpU6cVWJpm7qq-cHWtbpHmJCZ55qPNEvOeTrfl8pWnJ-B4ZJTDMZDCVgjJ-yw1ihS02omY7QAF-kmZ4pLJ2ih7VJXgwfv1mP-yB5Aw/s400/march+27%252C+2012+003a.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />
She loves for Mommy to brush her hair and put big bows in it, but she always takes the bows out right away.<br />
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She sucks her two middle fingers when she's tired. She's been doing that since she was a newborn.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TdcacdENc-2qdrd3S8HNGkLCWs_UusPVMmAX2oQDRU4DEe9OQZoPXLua-kwhtQ_iz8RqwNu2Bxc7m1nJP8IX-FcpEEJIRpJx8sN8EC8Vn59D4wtx6N89OEWOgGEgUcB0m3dtaMOr4w/s1600/march+27%252C+2012+036a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TdcacdENc-2qdrd3S8HNGkLCWs_UusPVMmAX2oQDRU4DEe9OQZoPXLua-kwhtQ_iz8RqwNu2Bxc7m1nJP8IX-FcpEEJIRpJx8sN8EC8Vn59D4wtx6N89OEWOgGEgUcB0m3dtaMOr4w/s400/march+27%252C+2012+036a.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>She loves to ride on the church bus with Daddy on Sundays.<br />
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She loves, loves, loves books. She asks everybody to read to her.<br />
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We love you, Lizzie! Happy Birthday!<br />
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</div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-41758839441716935262012-03-09T10:04:00.000-05:002012-03-09T10:04:38.684-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;">OK, confession here. Fridays don't really excite me all that much. I was just complaining to myself that, no matter what day it is, I still have just as much work to do. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But that's a bad attitude. I need to remember my blessings. I need to have a thankful attitude.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yes, this has been a hard week. Bobby was gone two nights this week. I have a cold. Abbey tried to steal something from Walmart. Lizzie still isn't potty trained. Jon still isn't walking by himself, and he's getting SO heavy. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">However, my list of blessings is SO MUCH LONGER. I have a husband who can work. He has a job that provides for our family. We have three beautiful children. We have the opportunity to be a part of a wonderful church--and somebody always opens the door for me to come in {a huge blessing when my arms are full--haha}. There are so many more things I could add.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">When my husband comes home tonight, I won't tell him how hard it was while he was gone. He already knows that; I've told him before. Instead, I'll just tell him how happy I am that he's home. I want him to like coming home, after all. We all know how important it is to make our husbands feel appreciated and respected for all that they provide for us.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Do we remember to praise our heavenly Father for what He provides for us? Do we thank Him often for His blessings? We all have needs, and we all have burdens; but do we have a thankful attitude? It takes faith to be able to praise God on dark days, but "<span style="font-size: small;">without faith it is impossible to please Him" (from Hebrews 11:6).</span></div><br />
<em><span style="color: grey;">This is my prayer for today, that I would have a thankful attitude throughout this day.</span></em><br />
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<b><span style="color: maroon; font-size: small;"><span style="color: maroon; font-size: small;"><div style="text-align: center;">Psalm 19:14</div></span><div style="text-align: center;"></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"></div></b><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Let the words of my mouth, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">and the meditation of my heart, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">my strength, and my redeemer." </span><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-76581892831636877692012-02-20T17:31:00.000-05:002012-02-20T17:31:59.356-05:00"...Fear not; I will help thee."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Yesterday, our pastor preached a message titled "What to Do When Everything Falls In." It encouraged my heart so much, and I've decided it's time to share something very personal with you.<br />
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Now I don't <em>really</em> feel that my whole world is falling in. I have <em>so many</em> blessings that come every day. I am very thankful for God's love and peace, and I appreciate all the good things that He has provided. However, there is a part of my life that is very stressful and hard, and parents of autistic children know what I mean. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">There. I said it. That word that I have avoided saying for about a year.</span> The word that's been in my mind for a couple of years, but I always pushed it away with, "She can't have autism. She talks so well." But she talks too well, like an adult in a four-year-old body. And sometimes the things she says are so extremely proper, that she sounds ridiculous. And when she doesn't understand something, her mind turns off and she screams horrible things and breaks things. <br />
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For a long time, I kept thinking that she was just extremely rebellious. People would tell me that I just have to be firm and eventually she would calm down. Eventually. I got advice from older Christians who raised good families. I read good parenting books. I tried eliminating things from her diet. More time passed. Instead of outgrowing her screaming and her strange sense of order and her need for certain routines, it all got worse. I started researching other possibilities. I found a good description for Asperger syndrome, and it described so much of what she does. Now our family doctor is helping us to get her officially diagnosed before she starts school this fall. <br />
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There's so much that this involves. It's hard to share all the frustrations. Everyday things like going to the store can take a lot of time. She insists on brushing her teeth, but screams when I brush her hair. Sometimes it takes a long time to persuade her to wear the right kind of clothes. "Today's a cold day; you have to wear a coat instead of a sweater," doesn't make any sense to her; but when summer comes, it will be hard to get her to give up her coat. Sometimes her food is confusing to her. I have to break it down into bites and show her which one to eat first. Even just writing this, I've had to stop so many times to stop her from doing something or to get her something. And every time it's a huge emotional ordeal for her.<br />
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Sometimes I wonder how much she really understands. Does she just memorize words and sentences and responses? Then when she runs out of memorized material, is that why she has a meltdown?<br />
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I'm trying to learn. I'm making social stories and comic strips. I'm trying to find out what works. I've learned that pictures work better than speaking. I also know there's a long road ahead. I'd like to share some of what I was reminded of in our pastor's message yesterday morning from 1 Samuel 30.<br />
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<ul style="text-align: left;"><li>We are inadequate, on our own, to handle our problems. David clung to God, and he was strengthened and encouraged. "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." (Phillippians 4:13) "But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus." (Phillippians 4:19</li>
<li>Don't assume. During times of stress, it's easy to just assume what you should be doing. Always pray and follow the Lord's leading. Don't just make your decisions based on what "makes sense." "Commit thy way unto the LORD; trust also in him, and he shall bring it to pass."</li>
<li>Don't faint. Go all the way through this trial. After the tenth or twentieth problem of the day, I still need to be patient and have the right attitude. </li>
<li>David recovered everything. God can work wondrous things in this situation. </li>
</ul>Now, you can see a part of my heart. In future posts, I probably won't talk very much about it, but if I mention that a particular day has been hard, you'll know there has probably been a lot of tears, battles, and seemingly futile efforts. Pray for us. We really need it.<br />
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God is so good, isn't He? I love the verse in Isaiah 41 that says, "For I the LORD thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee."<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"...Fear not; I will help thee."</span><br />
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I just love that.<br />
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Hannah</div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-7459314026965260282012-02-20T15:40:00.000-05:002012-02-20T15:40:54.796-05:00The Gift of a Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">A friend came over this morning and told me she was here to do "anything and everything." I don't like to ask for anything, and my friend knew this, so she just came over and told me she was going to help. She allowed me to spend some much-needed time with Abbey while she took care of Lizzie, Jon, and her own little baby. She was such a blessing today and turned a stressful Monday into a {smiley-face} day.<br />
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I'm getting another post ready about our issues with Abbey. It's a hard one to write, but I want to share some of this challenge with you. Most of my day is spent helping her work through situations that come up, so I don't often have time to write. Or, when I do have a few minutes, I'm too emotionally exhausted to open the computer. I'll write more in another post.<br />
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Anyway, thank you, dear friend, for the gift of a day. Today I feel so calm and rested!<br />
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Hannah</div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-13665514030272035932012-02-07T12:02:00.000-05:002012-02-07T12:02:41.810-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I have a big Starbucks mug that I just love. My sister-in-law gave it to me for Christmas in 2010, and I drink coffee and tea in it almost every day. It holds two cups of coffee (now you see why I like it so much). <br />
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Well, yesterday, I decided to do some reading while the kids were napping. I sat Indian style on the couch with a book and my big cup full of hot tea--and dumped the whole cup right onto my lap. OUCH!!! I did a sort-of dance around the living room, staying as quiet as possible. After a second, I realized I had to take off my skirt and tights, because they were saturated with the burning liquid and were continuing to burn my legs. I ended up with a dinner-plate sized burn across the top of my thighs. I probably should have gone to the emergency room to be checked, but I didn't want to wait a few hours and then be told, "You appear to have first and second degree burns on your legs." ["Oooohhhh, so THAT'S what happened. I was wondering."] They would probably just tell me to keep the area clean and come back if it gets infected.<br />
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So I just sat in Bobby's big chair all afternoon and evening with three bags of frozen veggies on my legs. I was so thankful that Bobby did not have a long day at work. He took care of supper and the kids. By the time I went to bed, the pain was almost gone. I was able to sleep well. This morning I am uncomfortable but not in pain. I have blisters on both legs that rub when I walk, so I am surprised it doesn't really hurt anymore. Being able to sit that long with the ice must have really helped. I told Bobby that his taking care of everything is what allowed me to feel better so quickly. I am thankful for such a caring husband. <br />
</div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-45909322235925954202012-02-07T11:13:00.000-05:002012-02-07T11:13:51.619-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">We have started a new routine this last week. Our house has an unfinished basement that we haven't really used. I do laundry down there, and put wood in the fire (we heat our house with wood), and that's about it. Our basement is old and creepy--spider webs, dirt, water, and you never know what else. This past year we were able to get new siding for our house, and that took care of the water problem. The last couple of weeks, I've been cleaning it a little at a time. It was a big job, and it's still not pretty, but it's clean enough that I could take the kids down. I took a rug and some toys down and let them have a little playroom. On the other side of the basement, I set up a little table for Abbey to do her "schoolwork." She hasn't started school yet, but she has a tower of plastic drawers with preschool workbooks and flashcards. She likes to practice her letters and numbers, so much that she can already read a little bit and do simple addition. <br />
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So now, we spend each morning downstairs. I help Abbey get started, then I play with the other two for a little bit. The whole time I have soft piano music playing on my phone. It really sets a relaxing mood even though we're in an unfinished basement. I have plans for making it prettier. I'll probably show pictures when I get something done.<br />
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Here's Abbey's little table. My grandpa made it for my brother and sister and me when we were little. It's very special.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKe4VeCv1zxE4TZAtC5cOoAstsY2sVP4Cga99Mtcac1XP6d1D33IKKQT9KWlvd6k0rjjtscPX4KuXRPyXuqZ_DkzBysuyxgt0qhGvccGVa1ppJPopO8ljp8QWnX-tZIeSYIj6ANEuQSg/s1600/032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKe4VeCv1zxE4TZAtC5cOoAstsY2sVP4Cga99Mtcac1XP6d1D33IKKQT9KWlvd6k0rjjtscPX4KuXRPyXuqZ_DkzBysuyxgt0qhGvccGVa1ppJPopO8ljp8QWnX-tZIeSYIj6ANEuQSg/s400/032.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Like her cowGIRL boots? She is insistent that they are not cowBOY boots.<br />
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I can't show you a picture of the playroom because Lizzie decided to take her skirt off. I have to go get her dressed...again.<br />
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'Bye for now {smile}<br />
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</div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-21475494014915575312012-01-30T21:13:00.000-05:002012-01-30T21:13:22.758-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Busy days...<br />
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I know it's been way too long since I've written anything for my dear readers. I won't tell you how busy I've been, because you have all been there. I would like to show you some pictures of what I've accomplished in my "silence," but there's really not all that much to show. Most of my days have been the kind where I'm running all day but getting nothing done (that's how it seems, anyway). <br />
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Today in my devotions, this verse in Proverbs 10:4 was a blessing to me. "He becometh poor that dealeth with a slack hand: but the hand of the diligent maketh rich." Just the fact that I am busy is profitable. God will reward me for working hard. Besides that, I am teaching my children to have initiative and work hard; and they will be rewarded for their work. Their children will then learn from their example, etc. How cool is that!<br />
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Here's something I made recently. My husband mounted it over our big kitchen window. I screwed a short piece of wood to each end of a long piece, screwed a wide board to the top, and fastened a bracket on the inside of each end to hold a utility pole. I sanded, primed, and painted it a creamy white to match my kitchen cabinets. Can you tell I like roosters? <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrUwlRYV0eN0qVCpmKpVOxhj98WuER7xnX78e0O6zussswITEd37yKE2JdYJ7fsYLsOqOfx1WuRCVgcz0k8BhF44jK-LP8RDtb4VFiaAJG8y4yg7WABTfTVhyphenhyphenJtn3ykYFr4wyFhFZU3A/s1600/107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrUwlRYV0eN0qVCpmKpVOxhj98WuER7xnX78e0O6zussswITEd37yKE2JdYJ7fsYLsOqOfx1WuRCVgcz0k8BhF44jK-LP8RDtb4VFiaAJG8y4yg7WABTfTVhyphenhyphenJtn3ykYFr4wyFhFZU3A/s400/107.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hannah</span><br />
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</div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-63239192990410558212011-12-14T23:35:00.000-05:002011-12-14T23:35:23.740-05:00one more try<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Sometimes (most of the time) it's hard to get all three of them to look at the camera at the same time<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidocijZgjFxdF4Yt-h5D5zwWy-JYdcC7EZf7Ykvxd1PtiHHuKobfaZGJC8f-hX3l-WgDIXxgSBwmcutGCnhRDEJbPgsLnM8XSpHKdCkzyZKyAsT-_JFSsjw_riCjOmHkgwEyLcdeAIdg/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidocijZgjFxdF4Yt-h5D5zwWy-JYdcC7EZf7Ykvxd1PtiHHuKobfaZGJC8f-hX3l-WgDIXxgSBwmcutGCnhRDEJbPgsLnM8XSpHKdCkzyZKyAsT-_JFSsjw_riCjOmHkgwEyLcdeAIdg/s400/002.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">or to sit still</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGMVAq60EzK9aWJ0RYCQqI8fPOfD0JBtSTXNkJdJlXSQ6-_38KbVNRYF_Ewq_WRnzntQXZOHpzt1ibs8-4EgFoEjzd6UOW2EN1p2pqEdPOij4-AgPVhyphenhyphenk4sQJFc_-ICvbS0yY-m9L5A/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGMVAq60EzK9aWJ0RYCQqI8fPOfD0JBtSTXNkJdJlXSQ6-_38KbVNRYF_Ewq_WRnzntQXZOHpzt1ibs8-4EgFoEjzd6UOW2EN1p2pqEdPOij4-AgPVhyphenhyphenk4sQJFc_-ICvbS0yY-m9L5A/s400/003.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">or both</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimAsnZ-pojvL6TnGZ3Dn0_SfFlUc45rVgih1l6Cux4ZX5GRhMwqQZW_WnaYvTnok1_7uk-jZ0Y6ZBRz9lvXx4OwjRZf4E5ZNwTr0dw7jowF7bQ9HggqYVOUUTcJCcie2oG2vPF87U2bw/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimAsnZ-pojvL6TnGZ3Dn0_SfFlUc45rVgih1l6Cux4ZX5GRhMwqQZW_WnaYvTnok1_7uk-jZ0Y6ZBRz9lvXx4OwjRZf4E5ZNwTr0dw7jowF7bQ9HggqYVOUUTcJCcie2oG2vPF87U2bw/s400/004.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I guess this will have to work!</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Jon is 10 months; Lizzie is 2; Abbey is 4.</div></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-32159981812334053872011-11-21T22:04:00.000-05:002011-11-21T22:04:26.921-05:00Beauty in the Darkness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">A country night is very dark. Driving on a dark country road, with trees on both sides, can get a little lonely, even a little spooky sometimes. There's so many shadows moving away from the car headlights. Today I was coming home from our Christmas program practice. There was no moon or stars showing. When I got to a certain point, I could see two eyes looking at me. I slowed down and saw a beautiful buck walk across the road and stare at me as I drove carefully past. <br />
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That deer turned the dark night into something beautiful. I wonder who around me is in a dark time in her life. Am I being an encouragement to her? Sometimes we don't realize how we affect the people around us. Am I a beautiful part of someone's life, or am I just blending into the darkness? Am I reaching out to help someone, or am I just hiding in the shadows?<br />
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<span style="color: maroon;"><span style="font-family: Pristina, cursive;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="158" style="font-weight: normal;">H</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">annah </span></span><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="162" style="font-weight: normal;">M</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ix</span></span></span></span></span> </div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-65202608667044584822011-11-17T21:59:00.001-05:002011-11-17T22:08:23.579-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">One of the weird things about blogging is that my day is not very different from anyone else's. Yet, for some reason, you still want to read about it. Sometimes I ask myself, "Would anyone really want to know about that?" Would you, for instance, like to know that a certain somebody woke up really early one morning? I didn't know her diaper was messy until about 2 hours later when I found "diaper prints" all over both girls' beds. Or would you like to hear that somebody threw up tonight in our local diner? It's not like it was in a restaurant in the city, with people we'll never see again. Everybody knows everybody here. The whole town has probably heard the story by now. Oh well, most days are not that exciting. <br />
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Jonathan is crawling all over the house. He loves his sisters and bounces up and down like he is going to jump up and run after them. He will be 10 months old in a couple days. <br />
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Abbey is really trying to help out around the house. She loves to experiment. For example, she knows I use soap and water to clean certain things, like the floor, dishes, etc. So she decided to pour a cup of water into the DVD player to clean it, too.<br />
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Yes, the past few days have been eventful, but I love my life. I have the privilege of taking care of my family all the time. I don't have to pay someone else to do it part of the time. I am thankful for this blessing.<br />
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<span style="color: maroon;"><span style="font-family: Pristina, cursive;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="158" style="font-weight: normal;">H</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">annah </span></span><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="162" style="font-weight: normal;">M</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ix</span></span></span></span></span> </div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-18667168605475828562011-11-01T13:39:00.001-04:002012-06-05T12:58:26.132-04:00seventeen years ago...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdzutItngvaFaSE3If4AnUePUM1ymnO6UvzAsQFhdOtDssVHiwpUi082QhYvwnyaHfOm2rckoMlRPsiZ5hACMXEkel7KEIDk7Xb1gVFidPSTFZBd_tkziFFQ0uuG_26EsK_bbbOB2vDQ/s1600/15345_100554519970165_100000468520490_15037_67839_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdzutItngvaFaSE3If4AnUePUM1ymnO6UvzAsQFhdOtDssVHiwpUi082QhYvwnyaHfOm2rckoMlRPsiZ5hACMXEkel7KEIDk7Xb1gVFidPSTFZBd_tkziFFQ0uuG_26EsK_bbbOB2vDQ/s400/15345_100554519970165_100000468520490_15037_67839_n.jpg" width="272" /></a></div><br />
Seventeen years ago today, a young family was huddled together at the small airport in Anchorage, Alaska. They had already left their home in Ohio and were now finally ready to fly to their new home in Magadan, Russia. They were allowed two suitcases plus two carry-ons per person, so with seven people, they had twenty-eight bags. It may have looked like a huge mound of bags, but this was just about everything they owned. So many things had been given away or left behind.<br />
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The church in Anchorage had gathered to send them off. Without a doubt, this family felt loved. They knew these friends would pray for them and keep them in their hearts.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyw0RlhXD3mjMSkUKWs6O7uCUwYgN97M5WFUbr8KuPU_iFEJX4J4s9HFhiv-p06dWQg-lq9Q7b0L2Wjx9xQfLhpSOcRC56eu_2UZNqpB-hnJWqEtgUewdL0syp_hyphenhyphen8GCFWP4AzA5dz8Q/s1600/336114_2623957517673_1217307870_33156104_1554343533_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyw0RlhXD3mjMSkUKWs6O7uCUwYgN97M5WFUbr8KuPU_iFEJX4J4s9HFhiv-p06dWQg-lq9Q7b0L2Wjx9xQfLhpSOcRC56eu_2UZNqpB-hnJWqEtgUewdL0syp_hyphenhyphen8GCFWP4AzA5dz8Q/s400/336114_2623957517673_1217307870_33156104_1554343533_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirzsiC456AKQFxzFOLrSryyuCCbN4ZbPIUMST3K62HDQKGAVgeMFB8P4d1FQjDRw2Np9xseACzk52Vr6FURww70j87PSJIEPHyUBJ4Yt6gnZCSKU0VZYhJMcfBS6OtMxybKRJNkuHVcA/s1600/210916_2623961917783_1217307870_33156107_411665091_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirzsiC456AKQFxzFOLrSryyuCCbN4ZbPIUMST3K62HDQKGAVgeMFB8P4d1FQjDRw2Np9xseACzk52Vr6FURww70j87PSJIEPHyUBJ4Yt6gnZCSKU0VZYhJMcfBS6OtMxybKRJNkuHVcA/s400/210916_2623961917783_1217307870_33156107_411665091_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>There was a little confusion at one point when they found out their carry-ons were too big. Carefully packed bags were opened up. "Kids, go put these clothes on over what you're wearing." "Here, put these books in your pockets." "Tie these extra sweatshirts around your waist." "You need to carry your toys in your hands." Things that could not fit anywhere were given away. "Does anybody want this sweater?"<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDFcJFlc5yoEQm9uOrh2eMSb_VlDsRnrjhIfXnJRGPJXnhsrmoJKyAFLg-VmixEVpuS6LlxW0gB-EFliksJO21gpoCWCGhPH2y9NcJrveJaT_4VMaOSwUrbf9LUjytsUDAylGWFsCajw/s1600/338566_2624003598825_1217307870_33156198_1743115563_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDFcJFlc5yoEQm9uOrh2eMSb_VlDsRnrjhIfXnJRGPJXnhsrmoJKyAFLg-VmixEVpuS6LlxW0gB-EFliksJO21gpoCWCGhPH2y9NcJrveJaT_4VMaOSwUrbf9LUjytsUDAylGWFsCajw/s400/338566_2624003598825_1217307870_33156198_1743115563_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Finally, it was time to leave. Father, mother, and five little children walked onto the plane that took them to the mission field for the first time. Seventeen years later, we are still walking in the footsteps that our God would have us to walk. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for following the Lord. Thank you for teaching us kids the joys of following God's plan.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><em>"The steps of a good man are ordered by the LORD: and he delighteth in his way."</em></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><em>Psalm 37:23</em></span><br />
<span style="color: maroon;"><span style="font-family: Pristina, cursive;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="158" style="font-weight: normal;">H</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">annah </span></span><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="162" style="font-weight: normal;">M</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ix</span></span></span></span></span> </div></div><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-312786923712207562011-10-31T11:37:00.004-04:002011-11-01T10:15:48.285-04:00Candy Apple Cake Pops<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO4NN8hDss-MZp0RCkGgEyL1oegykcuudb5mHxO8kAiMQKN6x_HgbhQVBmKeoHO9CkmjWNqAhc1OY4JeSnIvswleRWr361OG95pjm5dDMIVKQjsWDQTa4sJUJyIRPYuR-xJbozIxYxaQ/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO4NN8hDss-MZp0RCkGgEyL1oegykcuudb5mHxO8kAiMQKN6x_HgbhQVBmKeoHO9CkmjWNqAhc1OY4JeSnIvswleRWr361OG95pjm5dDMIVKQjsWDQTa4sJUJyIRPYuR-xJbozIxYxaQ/s320/013.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Today is the day for our church fall festival. Bobby and I have been planning it since summer! We got the church gym all decorated and set up last week, so there's not much to do today. I should use this time to do some laundry and cleaning...{sigh} Instead I am drinking some coffee and chatting with you, dear reader.<br />
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I just finished making these cake pops for the party. Have you ever made cake pops? They are super easy.<br />
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1. Bake a cake.<br />
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2. Frost it while it's still hot, so the frosting melts down into the cake.<br />
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3. Stir it all up and shape into 1" balls.<br />
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4. Freeze.<br />
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5. Dip in melted chocolate.<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I used red melting chocolate for these cake pops; then I stuck broken pretzel sticks in them. My friend Sarah put green frosting leaves on them to make them look like candy apples.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Abbey and Lizzie are being very quiet in the other room {and making me nervous}. I went to check on them. They are eating the toothpaste (the kiddie kind with no fluoride) and playing with all of our toothbrushes. They even opened the packages of the ones in the cabinet. "But, Mom, we wanted to brush our teeth."</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Jonathan is in the kitchen with me. He fell asleep in his high chair while I was making the cake pops. <br />
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"CRASH!" Uh-oh. That came from the bathroom. Gotta go! <br />
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<span style="color: maroon;"><span style="font-family: Pristina, cursive;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="158" style="font-weight: normal;">H</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">annah </span></span><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="162" style="font-weight: normal;">M</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ix</span></span></span></span></span> <br />
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This post is part of a linky party going on at <br />
<a href="http://caribbeanmissionarywife.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" src="http://i1208.photobucket.com/albums/cc368/raising4princesses/DSC02493-2-1-1-1.jpg" /></a></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-35632335468200868382011-10-25T20:59:00.000-04:002011-10-25T20:59:51.936-04:00Autumn Wedding<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLhRMHsoAer3RiOfTnXTyD3b2uZV8VN1CzkaOybPImLjsr4GBPf3Z5LbHJigJoCFKR9UNiR-CsVbw7qJ1R82tmCq7omwY2txzsPqkJKCT3M1kdcF976fOCK522s_xRpQEJAyEWF8Ww1A/s1600/IMG_0074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLhRMHsoAer3RiOfTnXTyD3b2uZV8VN1CzkaOybPImLjsr4GBPf3Z5LbHJigJoCFKR9UNiR-CsVbw7qJ1R82tmCq7omwY2txzsPqkJKCT3M1kdcF976fOCK522s_xRpQEJAyEWF8Ww1A/s400/IMG_0074.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
We had a beautiful fall day here in Ohio last Saturday (wait a minute--I can't believe this is already Tuesday!), just a pefect day for a wedding. Bobby's brother Jimmy got married. Abbey and Lizzie were the flower girls. Here are some fun pictures of them that the photographer (my sister-in-law Amber) took.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWppqyIU0Pkab343loFXNmYR3XWth55rEqhIFTp4yi5G1f4kPLL-ZTeYG93xJzgPxocMovQ3nUnwRPOFCSBVP9I5klzG0bgktdXmkwUo1G06jmor1bkoZ5z8Q4tX1uU-oXgnBpXyuBpQ/s1600/IMG_0804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWppqyIU0Pkab343loFXNmYR3XWth55rEqhIFTp4yi5G1f4kPLL-ZTeYG93xJzgPxocMovQ3nUnwRPOFCSBVP9I5klzG0bgktdXmkwUo1G06jmor1bkoZ5z8Q4tX1uU-oXgnBpXyuBpQ/s400/IMG_0804.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>3 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxp4SW6_KA1Ro7v5Xdwpgmj-0vHWr7IT3j6ine4xHeemeUXcfxuT202LdqZc_SoUuBA6KwyMlTWUP3ALFuYvxXHrnx5H8jUGMAjLNBC0Ul-JJfZVD0YB6sL6MwYWKYtmfXEfNU-qbO2Q/s1600/IMG_0068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxp4SW6_KA1Ro7v5Xdwpgmj-0vHWr7IT3j6ine4xHeemeUXcfxuT202LdqZc_SoUuBA6KwyMlTWUP3ALFuYvxXHrnx5H8jUGMAjLNBC0Ul-JJfZVD0YB6sL6MwYWKYtmfXEfNU-qbO2Q/s400/IMG_0068.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_CGLw4FQ4KrLXjJQsEqxLaYCahUxZ5a0NbDugAl5JVyjIbwX2xqMRw1mYDkF7PduYf9MW2p_DoZpVuFem8s84FTdVzKrqV0ThxGqYqWAU_VRuko4VFEu34zud24vQHRKSweP-zljlQ/s1600/IMG_0987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS_CGLw4FQ4KrLXjJQsEqxLaYCahUxZ5a0NbDugAl5JVyjIbwX2xqMRw1mYDkF7PduYf9MW2p_DoZpVuFem8s84FTdVzKrqV0ThxGqYqWAU_VRuko4VFEu34zud24vQHRKSweP-zljlQ/s400/IMG_0987.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here is Bobby with Jonathan. He just turned 9 months.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtkFfK81REkSlyXzMHkKtmcG7Yc4ZDG8FCSbrsjKn5luuFJd3X0IfX0gSlrCQligyLluZp8rVQYCD6tPQq2on-cGZJpzIjRqZ49gxEzTMC-gG_Z2m0bR1I7c4s9vlu_e-pZpEYQpZzqg/s1600/IMG_0706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtkFfK81REkSlyXzMHkKtmcG7Yc4ZDG8FCSbrsjKn5luuFJd3X0IfX0gSlrCQligyLluZp8rVQYCD6tPQq2on-cGZJpzIjRqZ49gxEzTMC-gG_Z2m0bR1I7c4s9vlu_e-pZpEYQpZzqg/s400/IMG_0706.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-14268348712840477182011-10-14T08:25:00.001-04:002011-10-14T08:57:05.091-04:00my kitchen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Here's a peak at my new kitchen. My hubby put our new counters and new sink in. Don't they look great? I sanded, primed, filled nicks, and painted the cabinets and frames. I'm not done yet, but the kitchen already looks so new! I am so excited!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FOMoQPOM7DHXhx8M9CUxdMc-RRVSU4p-8WDuV3w9WlD-WSEHZcWZFTIxbUHub_-e22T8ziQl52h5F-89G-Aw4JWoBixHcrGeiKInOxbQqda2bDDGGWzPfrECehxF3RuIJExDB0WEsg/s1600/141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FOMoQPOM7DHXhx8M9CUxdMc-RRVSU4p-8WDuV3w9WlD-WSEHZcWZFTIxbUHub_-e22T8ziQl52h5F-89G-Aw4JWoBixHcrGeiKInOxbQqda2bDDGGWzPfrECehxF3RuIJExDB0WEsg/s320/141.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdsrAhSfOOi-ObQz5uOSxjhHjX0JvR5lYtseP1pbZm6gjZ1au644X4Ks3DypUCrzaREHxhPtkG3Y3a4QRjhT2txb5xz8xCc2S0tGyX6ZqFR116oxt2APN54OzmWika4uFo-g1SvqRyw/s1600/142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdsrAhSfOOi-ObQz5uOSxjhHjX0JvR5lYtseP1pbZm6gjZ1au644X4Ks3DypUCrzaREHxhPtkG3Y3a4QRjhT2txb5xz8xCc2S0tGyX6ZqFR116oxt2APN54OzmWika4uFo-g1SvqRyw/s320/142.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is what the counters look like up close.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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Now I have to make a confession. I had planned to eat from our garden all summer...and we started out really good, but our garden was too small to reach my goal. I did save enough grocery money to buy the countertops and part of the sink, so all that work still paid off!!!<br />
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</div></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-72353414619875623402011-10-13T08:00:00.000-04:002011-10-13T08:00:46.160-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Hello, dear readers. It's been a while since we've talked! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglz7D6PEVRf0AjQO38eMSkiiibj8nqXTR1yY_3nuxAtDx5_Dig4qPm08CJ69z-uJfaqlvGDByvO7wCtSGkh9ZLQ5lP7m6D8kEZH-3jLD4Mvftp9jFr4EIekIfmx-aAFKStYS11UON51g/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglz7D6PEVRf0AjQO38eMSkiiibj8nqXTR1yY_3nuxAtDx5_Dig4qPm08CJ69z-uJfaqlvGDByvO7wCtSGkh9ZLQ5lP7m6D8kEZH-3jLD4Mvftp9jFr4EIekIfmx-aAFKStYS11UON51g/s400/001.JPG" width="298" /></a></div><br />
We are doing some work in the living room and kitchen. During the day I try to squeeze in some painting in between nursing the baby and helping Abbey do her preschool and keeping Elizabeth busy. By the time the kids go to bed, I am super tired. I haven't been awake enough to post anything. When I get done, I will post pictures.<br />
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This past weekend--I know, that's almost a week ago--we drove to Indiana to visit my Grandma and Grandpa Pranger. I really love these people. When I came to the States by myself to go to college, their house was a second home for me. They drove me down to Oklahoma and back several times. I spent two Christmases with them. <br />
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Here are some pictures of them from my album. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2C5B198EuQX7nnxOna0GRVX3WKHRgGdFEBfW0OxacUtaLfTmrPKY37o-gPRjJ98OG1v4c7iJWkhfFtouhX9cdnio5_Xr7qsKhbkO5J3-xtTivdpuP-c2sF2MbJL7oOz_OxKZvvjZMjw/s1600/052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2C5B198EuQX7nnxOna0GRVX3WKHRgGdFEBfW0OxacUtaLfTmrPKY37o-gPRjJ98OG1v4c7iJWkhfFtouhX9cdnio5_Xr7qsKhbkO5J3-xtTivdpuP-c2sF2MbJL7oOz_OxKZvvjZMjw/s400/052.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm about two weeks old here</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7j3V8LyYRF60iRbjB5k490ohXhSVbNMFUKP9VIAF8hIrH40wLDHLZ1OSPDOQdcMG7dTs3bkQV0NQERNTfu-cxasnXJV-HWN8icj0bWSr_7hwlu7uPdGtR9m7YSburrfQ7XCL4jPz_Pw/s1600/091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7j3V8LyYRF60iRbjB5k490ohXhSVbNMFUKP9VIAF8hIrH40wLDHLZ1OSPDOQdcMG7dTs3bkQV0NQERNTfu-cxasnXJV-HWN8icj0bWSr_7hwlu7uPdGtR9m7YSburrfQ7XCL4jPz_Pw/s400/091.JPG" width="337" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0K1VJ2dkAvbeHynU9Arfr__M9x7G4qyUXTmJ4GEYhKNXtACkmamGcCRTJ4sFU7LONE87pF1_E6OSuHTl2hYUKTuJ1owBLVGcIoQW523zoa9XP-fxCm9pnUomX7NwCDwBppRROeZqJiw/s1600/120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="331" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0K1VJ2dkAvbeHynU9Arfr__M9x7G4qyUXTmJ4GEYhKNXtACkmamGcCRTJ4sFU7LONE87pF1_E6OSuHTl2hYUKTuJ1owBLVGcIoQW523zoa9XP-fxCm9pnUomX7NwCDwBppRROeZqJiw/s400/120.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">me, James, Amos, and Sharon with Grandpa.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJybzpyvRElCFZSNp7ptI1InJHqPHVPjCIS08OYyvsO2d0Ym7NuDHJz_xRXYr2cU_aAjYaHC7l58ZUdcl6wDtZYtid9YXAEt45-PHq4zLoWg18qoQ8c6mECffLX3gepqmKg5Aaq4ImQ/s1600/127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="345" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJybzpyvRElCFZSNp7ptI1InJHqPHVPjCIS08OYyvsO2d0Ym7NuDHJz_xRXYr2cU_aAjYaHC7l58ZUdcl6wDtZYtid9YXAEt45-PHq4zLoWg18qoQ8c6mECffLX3gepqmKg5Aaq4ImQ/s400/127.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc59lkBh-cpVaTBNv58cpArkv_yr0Tnx82R81uGuUZor8_le3PPxYlybF-6LI6FkfqFBI3hgFiX7PsWStvj9XXVAsEmdGGSPM2rV99LzD_BUiN2KrOlgw9nttCUVxlNrjc74XB81dmmA/s1600/157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc59lkBh-cpVaTBNv58cpArkv_yr0Tnx82R81uGuUZor8_le3PPxYlybF-6LI6FkfqFBI3hgFiX7PsWStvj9XXVAsEmdGGSPM2rV99LzD_BUiN2KrOlgw9nttCUVxlNrjc74XB81dmmA/s400/157.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">during college days</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlv4BfcTfn4uPdW4g5c8mDCDO752Z3oOfIPbBS9dd4X4IMdPE3Tb9WCexatxYH1F8FdbIiHlZUUqRBLjeSX-t2NgSjO2WiNHLFPQFBruFKSKOMZnsiY1W-p565NotpROaL-VwJsZScQ/s1600/318525_2065385882880_1491778094_31786441_581454782_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlv4BfcTfn4uPdW4g5c8mDCDO752Z3oOfIPbBS9dd4X4IMdPE3Tb9WCexatxYH1F8FdbIiHlZUUqRBLjeSX-t2NgSjO2WiNHLFPQFBruFKSKOMZnsiY1W-p565NotpROaL-VwJsZScQ/s400/318525_2065385882880_1491778094_31786441_581454782_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Here we are now, with my husband Bobby (and the girls' heads peeking in the corners). We had a good visit. It was really good to see them again.<br />
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<span style="color: maroon;"><span style="font-family: Pristina, cursive;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="158" style="font-weight: normal;">H</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">annah </span></span><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="162" style="font-weight: normal;">M</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ix</span></span></span></span></span> </div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-33159848679379564162011-09-26T22:04:00.002-04:002011-09-29T10:44:49.745-04:00Country Corn Bread<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I love cornbread, especially with a big square of butter melting all over it. My mom taught me to make it in a cast iron pan when I was--umm, maybe 7 years old. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsu8euFbkW54ojccRvKI8MAHZT9u3sVy1vDmDVzr-Yl8bvWqxS9PRxtKHRrp9xzDHE2rGL6MyU6Qf4Zfkqo43uwt6UZ25BXY7rl00nv9B3SDH749LPlWb_7TwB0Ot0bg_ds0kN5RWimQ/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsu8euFbkW54ojccRvKI8MAHZT9u3sVy1vDmDVzr-Yl8bvWqxS9PRxtKHRrp9xzDHE2rGL6MyU6Qf4Zfkqo43uwt6UZ25BXY7rl00nv9B3SDH749LPlWb_7TwB0Ot0bg_ds0kN5RWimQ/s400/015.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">1. First of all, give the baby a chocolate cookie. He will happily make a big mess while you make the cornbread.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">2. Put about 5 tbsp shortening, bacon fat, or butter in your cast iron pan. Place the pan in your oven while it is preheating at 425 degrees.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">3. Mix together 1 cup flour, 1 cup cornmeal, 1/4 cup sugar, 1 tbsp baking powder, and 1/2 tsp salt.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">4. Add 1 cup milk and 1 egg. Stir just until mixed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">5. By this time, the fat in your pan should be melted, and the pan should be hot. Carefully tilt your pan to make sure it is well coated with the fat, then pour most of it into the batter. Quickly stir and return the batter to the pan. You should hear a nice sizzle when you pour the batter into the pan.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">6. Bake at 425 degrees until it's done (you know, the whole toothpick thing). It takes about 15-20 minutes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">7. Turn upside down onto a large plate. Cut into wedges and serve. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><span style="color: maroon;"><span style="font-family: Pristina, cursive;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="158" style="font-weight: normal;">H</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">annah </span></span><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="162" style="font-weight: normal;">M</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ix</span></span></span></span></span> </div><br />
This post is part of a linky party hosted by <a href="http://caribbeanmissionarywife.blogspot.com/2011/09/t-time-33-and-link-up.html">Raising Four Princesses</a><br />
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<a href="http://caribbeanmissionarywife.blogspot.com/"><img border="0" src="http://i1208.photobucket.com/albums/cc368/raising4princesses/DSC02493-2-1-1-1.jpg" /></a><br />
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and <br />
</div><a href="http://womenlivingwell.org/category/women-living-well-wednesdays/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i457.photobucket.com/albums/qq297/courtneylivingwell/LivingWell.png" /></a></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-24776760331260064682011-09-23T22:07:00.000-04:002011-09-23T22:07:50.983-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Today I held little Jon in my arms. He fell asleep while he was nursing. I kissed his cheek before I put him in his crib, and then I kissed him again. Life goes by so fast. Tomorrow is not certain. I held him a little bit longer. Such a sweet little baby!</div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-85304644411031801242011-09-20T08:46:00.000-04:002011-09-20T08:46:21.511-04:00Smiling through tears<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div closure_uid_sqk4m1="145">The smile on my face doesn't really hide the tears in my eyes.</div><br />
Yesterday we took James and Amber to the airport.<br />
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They will gone for just a couple weeks, but soon they will be in Russia permanently.<br />
<div closure_uid_sqk4m1="149"><br />
</div><div closure_uid_sqk4m1="141">I miss them so much already.<br />
</div><div closure_uid_sqk4m1="141"><br />
</div><div closure_uid_sqk4m1="148">They are two Christian soldiers on their first "deployment"</div><br />
<div closure_uid_sqk4m1="141">I am <em>proud</em> to call them family.</div></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-87632640685557406072011-09-16T22:35:00.000-04:002011-09-16T22:35:53.569-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">One of the great joys in my life now as a grown-up missionary kid is seeing some of our dear pastor friends who have supported my parents since I was a little girl. Tonight I was privileged to hear one such pastor preach. His church has supported my parents for 18 years, and he has been the pastor this whole time. Not many preachers stay at a church for that long, and not many pastors will take notice of the missionary KIDS. This pastor and the church where he pastors bring up so many warm memories of everything I loved about traveling on deputation with my parents and siblings. I really enjoyed the sermon tonight. Here are a few of things that were said:<br />
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"In order for your prayer life to be effectual, you must have a <em>place</em> where you pray every day."<br />
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"With everything else that you are doing, how much time do you have left for God?"<br />
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"We are good at forgiving people who don't really need it, but we don't like to forgive those who <em>really need forgiveness."</em></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-77155901167261947032011-09-08T12:03:00.000-04:002011-09-08T12:03:25.447-04:00Let them try<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm sitting at the table watching Abbey (4) try to eat a grapefruit. I offered to help her, but she wants to do it herself. Grapefruit juice and pulp is flying all over the table and the floor as she stubbornly tugs at her spoon. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the things I try to build in my children is independence. Before Abbey was born, I used to teach in a Christian school. Those children who were independent enough to do things on their own were always better prepared to start school. I don't mean a rebellious independence that says, "I am not going to do this the way you said, Mommy." I mean an independence that I can give them a job and they will get it done on their own. I say that as a <i>goal</i>, because we haven't arrived there yet.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My children are preschool age. There's a lot that they can't do, but yet there's a lot that they can. By now, Abbey has finished her grapefruit. She is holding up picture cards and asking Lizzie (2) to name the picture. She is independently teaching Lizzie and increasing her vocabulary, and they are both having fun. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Let your children learn to do things for themselves. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><div style="text-align: justify;">Have a small water jug in the refrigerator and let them pour their own drinks. If it spills, have a small mop or a basket of cleaning rags that they can reach and clean the mess themselves. </div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them count out their own snacks. Show them how many crackers are in a serving size, and let them count their own snack. (Did you know that 42 mini pretzel sticks are in one serving?) This is a good way to reinforce math and nutrition. </div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">As soon as they can walk, you can teach them to bring a diaper to you at changing time. </div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">When they are a little older, they can carry Daddy's coffee to him (don't fill the cup all the way). </div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">If you keep the cereal and bowls in a lower cabinet, you can teach them to get their own breakfast.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">You can let each child keep a lunch box in the refrigerator with his own snacks for the week. This also teaches honesty (don't take food from someone else's box) and frugality (if you eat two snacks today you won't have any tomorrow). </div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Teach your children how to use a cell phone--they might already know :) If you get hurt, they should know whom to call for help. They should know your address, too. </div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them wash fruits and vegetables. </div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them shuck corn and snap green beans.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them tear up the lettuce for salad.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them open tea bags when you make iced tea.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them add ingredients and help stir when you bake.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them put the dishes into the sink (teach them how to be careful).</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them set the table. </div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them wipe the table after a meal.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Give them a spray bottle with water and a little vinegar. Give them an old rag and let them wash walls, windows, cabinets, etc.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them sort socks.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">You can get a small lightweight vacuum for under $20 (one without a bag). You can let them be responsible for vacuuming their room or cleaning up the baby's Cheerio mess.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Teach them to pull weeds and pick the vegetables in your garden.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them choose the produce at the grocery store. Count as you go, and show them how to weigh it (more math).</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Have low hooks near the outside door. Teach them to hang their own coats up. You can do the same thing in their room for hanging pajamas.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Let them be responsible for emptying the bathroom trash.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Make sure even the little ones put their dirty clothes in the hamper.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Teach them to sort the laundry.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Teach them what to do if they get lost.</div></li>
<li><div style="text-align: justify;">Teach them what to do if somebody tries to take them. </div></li>
</ul><div style="text-align: justify;">These are only a few of the things that toddlers and preschoolers can do. They naturally want to help. We mothers need to encourage them and guide them. Don't expect perfection, but praise their efforts. Do you have more ideas? Please comment below and share them!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<span style="color: maroon;"><span style="font-family: Pristina, cursive;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="158" style="font-weight: normal;">H</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">annah </span></span><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="162" style="font-weight: normal;">M</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ix</span></span></span></span></span> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div>A Country Mixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07836936235130007096noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6096218023726100169.post-18054746139472496002011-09-06T22:30:00.003-04:002011-09-06T22:42:44.324-04:00a tea party with Daddy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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It's very special to little girls when Daddy takes some time to have a tea party with them. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhze13e60Fqwx-pJ9usm9c4Hx5GExoOt2slmxXXtVt7R4fZMXYIitN92UoTI6_LeCo0Iwc0hVnDEImmetYNdFVJQ-9uuExGYTWJYNeTMazxdgVjdnLXoOTjA8kAGBrM02WIcaX8YgxhLw/s1600/105b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhze13e60Fqwx-pJ9usm9c4Hx5GExoOt2slmxXXtVt7R4fZMXYIitN92UoTI6_LeCo0Iwc0hVnDEImmetYNdFVJQ-9uuExGYTWJYNeTMazxdgVjdnLXoOTjA8kAGBrM02WIcaX8YgxhLw/s400/105b.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
He is such a wonderful Daddy!!! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhWl8XVPpqIohHVE9kukL5i_kj_WgYk7_59J3PbCG7HDXXqsK33dsreatzw0eYMINk4oEmkpweDfnJAMVA-ni57ZVncpuLZtJe5NJYZntvdCaOgHXeqJGol6yNLf6XnF6Co18EGjiN9Q/s1600/104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhWl8XVPpqIohHVE9kukL5i_kj_WgYk7_59J3PbCG7HDXXqsK33dsreatzw0eYMINk4oEmkpweDfnJAMVA-ni57ZVncpuLZtJe5NJYZntvdCaOgHXeqJGol6yNLf6XnF6Co18EGjiN9Q/s400/104.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>(and we love him so, so much)<br />
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Here are some things to remember for a nice tea party with Daddy:<br />
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1. Remember the way to a man's heart is, you know, his stomach. Serve something good, not just pretend food, even if it's just his favorite candy.<br />
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2. Remember something might get spilled. Don't complain. Don't ruin the memory.<br />
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3. Remember that Daddy is not Mommy, and he might do something different from you. Don't correct him. Let him have fun with his daughters.<br />
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4. Remember that you will probably end up cleaning at least part of the party after it's over. Look back at #2<br />
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5. Praise him for being such a good daddy. Praise him again before you go to bed. Praise him the next day...you get the picture. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0q7FpzchEgtu4pySae7PjTt2ww3N5DPF4_D5o2r7wbPeMlA86DZa3vQ0oJBpXlfhL7fLH5DiY4YMrGM44m1nFH9to_xxWEW6xivVuudqISeTyYtbP7QTb7GoB3s3ZqNP8Pq95Je-4A/s1600/105c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0q7FpzchEgtu4pySae7PjTt2ww3N5DPF4_D5o2r7wbPeMlA86DZa3vQ0oJBpXlfhL7fLH5DiY4YMrGM44m1nFH9to_xxWEW6xivVuudqISeTyYtbP7QTb7GoB3s3ZqNP8Pq95Je-4A/s400/105c.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="color: maroon;"><span style="font-family: Pristina, cursive;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="158" style="font-weight: normal;">H</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">annah </span></span><span style="font-family: AR DECODE;"><span style="font-size: 66pt;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span closure_uid_7rnjt9="162" style="font-weight: normal;">M</span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ix</span></span></span></span></span> <br />
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This post is part of a blog hop going on at <a href="http://caribbeanmissionarywife.blogspot.com/">Raising Four Princesses.</a><br /><a href="http://caribbeanmissionarywife.blogspot.com/"><img src="http://i1208.photobucket.com/albums/cc368/raising4princesses/DSC02493-2-1-1-1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />
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